


Symbiotic

by strifery



Series: Symbiotic [1]
Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES-, Accidental Confession, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Post-Canon, Roommates, its a horny on main kind of movie, not gonna apologize for getting a little horny on main
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-23 22:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20896889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strifery/pseuds/strifery
Summary: Galo Thymos has made a lot of discoveries about needs in the six months since Lio Fotia started living with him. In his case, all he needs to remain the world's number one firefighting idiot is his axe, his team, and to remove his shirt at least once per day.As it turns out, there is one more thing he needs: to keep his big mouth shut.





	1. What Was Said

**Author's Note:**

> y'all ever just wild out and write an entire chapter of a bigger fic before starting on the story it's from
> 
> Also! Assume that for the sake of this fic, when someone says "symbiotic", they're generally referring to a mutualistic relationship. I know that scientifically, there are positive, neutral, and negative kinds of symbiotic relationships, but y'know what I already had 3/4 of this beast written by the time I chose to google it so we're just gonna roll with it.
> 
> Special thanks to alchamess, dearfriendicanfly, and gingerium for being my patient betas while I lost my whole ass mind making this fic longer and longer. :')

“Symbiotic.” 

The unfamiliar word rolls nonchalantly off Lucia’s tongue as she reaches across the table to grab a second slice of pizza, and Galo raises an eyebrow, the meaning lost on him. Aina, on the other hand, snaps her fingers.

“_That’s _the word for it!” She points the slice of pizza in her hand at him as she gestures, and for a man used to attracting (and welcoming, for that matter) lots of attention, Galo feels weirdly put on the spot. “You and Lio are _symbiotic. _ It all makes sense now.” 

On the contrary, Galo feels more confused than he ever intended to be during a simple outing with friends — though he has to admit that the mention of his partner’s name sends a nervous ripple through his stomach for reasons he’d rather bury under a healthy amount of melted cheese and hot sauce before addressing. 

For the first time, Galo Thymos is, for all intents and purposes, avoiding Lio Fotia.

And for whatever reason, on the one day he needs their distraction the most, the smaller man seems to be the only thing his fellow Burning Rescue teammates want to talk about; specifically, his relationship with _him. _

“You know better than to throw that word around like I know what it means,” Galo reminds the girls, deftly swiping the untouched slice from Aina’s hand and shoveling it into his mouth before she has a chance to protest. 

“A relationship between two organisms characterized by mutual benefit to one another or a close association,” Remi supplies with his usual coolness. The light catches his glasses as he pushes them up the bridge of his nose. “Usually physical.” 

“Physical?!” Galo nearly chokes on Aina’s crust, eyes going wide as a stray chunk of pepperoni makes its way down the wrong pipe. After a few generous gulps of water (and one of Varys’ beer as it’s offered to him), his thick blue eyebrows knit together in shock. “You guys think me and Lio are sleeping together?”

“No-“

“Yes,” Lucia interrupts in tandem with Aina, the latter whipping around to face Remi and question, “No?!”

“_No,_” Remi asserts, a bit of workplace authority creeping into his voice, “-as in that’s not necessarily what constitutes a symbiotic relationship. To describe two organisms as symbiotic, you simply have to acknowledge that a large part of either’s survival depends on the other. It can be perfectly platonic.” The lieutenant takes a nonchalant sip of his own drink before continuing. “But as for the sleeping together thing, yeah, there’s no way that hasn’t happened already.” 

Galo, for his part, knows that he can’t possibly get away with throwing a breadstick at his higher-up (Varys is a _notorious _snitch), so he makes the very grown-up decision to pluck another slice of pizza off of one of the crew’s many accumulated plates and start rolling it like a burrito. 

“Th’ hell d’you mean ‘already’?!” He demands through a mouthful of cheese and tomato. Remi shrugs. 

“Well, forgive me for making assumptions, but I only figured that after, what, four months of living together, two men with a relationship of your nature would...y’know-“ The aqua-haired man clicks his tongue suggestively, the implication clear. Lucia is much less subtle, mimicking rude gestures with an olive and a toothpick beside him. 

“Wait,” she says after a second, picking up a stray drinking straw. “with the size difference between you two, it’s probably more like this.” She forces the straw through the tiny ring, the movement much less smooth than before, and Galo’s entire face flushes an unflattering shade of pink. 

“Just because we live together doesn’t mean we have to have sex!” Galo’s voice cracks as he protests a little too loudly, earning him a few curious looks from the other restaurant patrons as their conversations slow to a hush. Galo, suddenly realizing that at some point he must have stood up, quietly gives the civilians a sheepish wave and sinks back into his seat as the rest of his team barely manage to conceal their laughter. 

Varys, bless him, uses the quiet to flag down a waiter and order two more beers, sliding one to Galo before the blue-haired man sulks low enough to slide under the table. He takes a few grateful chugs before slamming the bottle onto the table with all the conviction of a man trying to scrape together the scraps of his lost pride. 

“And you’re wrong, by the way,” he continues at a more respectable volume, flicking a straw wrapper towards Remi. “It’s been _five _months since Lio moved in, he just gave me this month’s rent.”

“Oh my god, he’s counting,” Lucia snickers. Galo simply shoots her an empty glare and takes a moment to scarf down a few breadsticks, his brow twitching in irritation. 

Aina’s expression goes a little funny for a second as she looks at him, and Galo swears internally; he forgot that she can always tell when he’s stress eating. He makes quick eye contact with her — _“I’ll tell you later.”— _and just like that her slight droop of concern is gone, replaced by her usual bubbliness and the sharp glint of mischief.

“Of course he’s counting,” Aina quips, her response a little too late as she tosses her ponytail over one shoulder. “I bet Lio’s been counting too. They’re _symbiotic_, after all.” She punctuates the word — _that _word, again — with a teasing wiggle of her fingers.

“Mutual benefits,” Remi repeats, popping a corner of crust into his mouth. Galo rolls his eyes over the rim of his drink. 

“You can say that word all you want, but I still don’t get how it applies to me and Lio. We’re just_ friends_.” He narrows his eyes at Lucia. “No straws and olives whatsoever.” 

“But you like him, right?” Varys pipes up for the first time since they got on the excruciating topic of Galo’s home life, and the shorter man shoots him a helpless look. 

“I-! Of course I do! He’s my best friend! My one and only co-pilot! We saved the world together! He knows my burning passion like no one else does!”

“That’s bro code for ‘he’s seen my dick’,” Lucia fake-whispers to Aina, not even bothering to look innocent. She’s not _wrong_, per se, but it’s not like it was intentional — it just took Galo a couple of weeks to remember he wasn’t alone at home anymore. A guy forgets his towel in the shower _one time… _

Varys ignores them and shakes his head. “No, Galo, we get that you like him as a person, but the way you two act around each other…” Varys pauses to take a bite of pizza, looking off the restaurant patio and into the bustling street as he tries to find the right words. “I don’t know how to describe it, man, I’m just saying it’s hard to believe there isn’t something going on there.” 

Galo blinks owlishly, not a clue in his expression. “I don’t get it.” 

“Oh, come _on!” _Aina interrupts, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You two are practically joined at the hip! It’s crazy enough that you guys were apparently compatible enough to pilot a planet-punching mech together, like, less than a week after you met, but now you work together-“

“What better place is there to work in Promepolis than Burning Rescue? It’s the best place to put a burning soul like his to work! Plus the hours he puts in with us count towards his probation…” 

“_-live _together- _ “ _She continues, relentless. 

“He needed a place to stay!”

“He could’ve stayed at the station with the other Mad Burnish,” Remi points out. Aina nods in agreement.

“And he did!” Galo’s teammates level him with matching deadpan stares, and he shrinks a little under their gaze. “For about a week.” He shrugs noncommittally. “My apartment just has more space. Who wouldn’t prefer that?” 

Aina speaks up again: “You and I both know that Lio Fotia only takes up about a third of a couch on a good day, there’s no way it was just a space issue.” Her voice takes on a teasing musicality. “Plus, I know for a fact that you two share a bed sometimes.”

“Do you know how expensive mattresses are?! This job takes a lot out of a guy, I can’t just let him sleep on the couch all the time.” Despite his confident tone, he can feel his pulse beginning to race as defensiveness bubbles hot in his chest — not for his own sake, but for Lio’s. “And so what if it’s not a space thing?! Maybe after leading a fugitive group for who knows how long he just wants to come home to some peace and quiet.” 

Lucia snorts. “I doubt it, he’s still coming home to _you _after all _ . _” 

As much as he knows the comment is a (somewhat affectionate) dig, something about the engineer’s statement makes Galo give pause. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t actually know _why _Lio chose to stay with him instead of all the other options offered to him. Even after several months, his partner is still deeply involved in Burnish activism campaigns, doing his best to remain a beacon of justice for his people despite his own needs — he spends more time at the firehouse doing paperwork and organizing various aid efforts than ever actually going into the field. It would make perfect sense for Lio to just stay in the station dorms where he could be close to his people like he was used to. 

But he doesn’t. Lio walks the twenty minutes from Galo’s apartment every morning alongside him, mumbling to himself about the day’s agenda while idly taking sips of the coffee Galo prepares for him in a neat purple thermos, enjoying the feeling of heat in his palms more than the actual drink. 

Lio slaps an envelope of cash onto the kitchen table every month to cover his half of the rent, even when Galo told him after the first month not to worry about such things until after he was more adjusted (i.e. had a chance to buy more than one set of clothes — though Galo can’t say he minds Lio’s tendency to swipe old shirts from his closet). 

Lio makes grocery lists and fusses when Galo puts the empty carton of milk back in the fridge out of habit. He has programs set to record on the living room television; mostly newscasts he misses while working late, but Galo’s caught the odd cooking show cropping up here and there. He has shoes by the door and a key on a ring and a shelf full of snacks that Galo’s not allowed to touch. 

Lio _lives _with him. And if Lucia is to be believed, he’s doing so because he _ wants _to. 

Galo isn’t so dense that he never believed that Lio liked his company, but the revelation that something about their absolute clusterfuck of a first meeting motivated Lio to call the same space as him “home” strikes a chord in his chest, melodic and direct as it targets his heart, not unlike the ex-Burnish himself.

Oh god, he’s _fucked. _

“I think you broke him.” Aina’s voice snaps Galo out of his thoughts, and as his eyes meet the expectant faces of his team, he realizes he’s been staring into his pizza for who knows how long.

“He’s been quiet like that for what, five minutes now?”

“Is that a new record?”

“What was the last record, Varys?”

“Two.”

“Minutes?”

“Seconds.” 

“Heeey, earth to Galo, you didn’t fall asleep on us again, did you?” Lucia’s leaning across the table to knock on his head when he suddenly stands abruptly, startling everyone at the table.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Galo declares quickly, his chair squealing against the ground as he all but rushes off the patio. His teammates blink in the aftermath as they watch him disappear inside the restaurant.

“Maybe we threw him off when we brought up Lio before he did,” Remi suggests, taking a calculated sip of his soda. Lucia leans back in her chair, propping her feet up on the edge of the table.

“D’you think they had a fight?” She wonders aloud, and Varys shakes his head, already reaching for Galo’s untouched seventh slice of pizza.

“Doubt it, we’ve seen them fight before and he was never this jittery.” Aina simply frowns at the space where her friend was, worry furrowing her brow. 

“Still,” Lucia continues, “It’s weird having one here and not the other. Something’s gotta be up.”

“We’ve pushed him enough already,” Remi concedes. “At this point, he’ll either tell us or he won’t.” His mint green eyes meet Aina’s, somehow conveying both question and confirmation. “But someone should probably go after him. Preferably before the check comes.”

▲▼▲

Galo does not, in fact, go to the bathroom. He mills about inside the restaurant, waving to Chief and the pizza chef, who lifts his prosthetic hand sheepishly. He watches for a moment as he twirls the baking paddle deftly between its plastic grip, laying a new disc of soft dough to rest in the oven just as gentle as ever. Galo quietly makes a note to tell Lio that the young man seems to be adjusting just fine to his new arm –– he’ll be pleased to know that his initiative for aiding ex-Burnish who lost limbs to Kray’s engine is running smoothly. 

His eyes wander to the dessert case by the door, and he’s quickly distracted by the towering plumes of whipped cream perched artfully on delicate cannolis bursting with chocolate chips. Lio prefers the strawberry kind, he reminds himself as he spies another topped with sliced ruby-red strawberries arranged to resemble a clumsy-yet-appetizing flower. Golden honey still drips from the sides, mixing with powdered sugar in a lovely mess –– it must be fresh. 

Galo’s practically drooling as he crouches down to survey the row of cheesecakes just beneath the cannolis, barely even noticing Aina coming up behind him until he catches sight of her reflection in the glass. He says nothing as she bends down beside him, her cyan eyes tracing the tiger stripes of caramel and chocolate on a slice of peanut butter cheesecake. 

“Lio can’t stand too close to this thing, y’know,” he finally supplies, his knuckle rapping lightly on the refrigerated glass. Aina suppresses a shiver of her own, her trademark crop top and shorts not doing much in the way of protecting her either.

“I can see why.” She pauses thoughtfully. “I bet it’s way worse for him, though.”

Galo shrugs. “He’s getting more and more used to it. I usually keep a jacket for him on the back of the bike, though. Just in case.” Aina smiles.

“That’s sweet of you.” Galo lets out a noncommittal grunt, still looking dead ahead. A moment of silence passes between them. Chief spares them a glance, beginning to make his way over to serve the two heroes dessert, but gives pause at the way Aina’s mouth opens and closes around unspoken words, unsure on how to begin.

“I saw you stress eating earlier,” she finally floats, hoping Galo’s motor-mouth will take over. He just huffs out a mirthless laugh.

“I don’t ‘stress eat’, Aina. This is my favorite joint in town, you’ve gotta know that by now. I don’t want to waste a single bite.”

“Sure, not a single bite,” she parrots sarcastically. “From a place you visit at least twice a week.” 

“Three times on paydays,” he shoots back, earning him a soft elbow to the side. He laughs again, genuinely this time as Aina hits a ticklish spot. “I’m a big guy, I’ve gotta keep this motor running somehow.” He poses as best he can while squatting, puffing out his chest and making the most of the tight V of his shirt’s neckline. Aina, for her part, dissolves into giggles, her own ears slowly turning as bubblegum pink as her hair.

“Alright, we get it, you’re stacked. Save the cleavage for the next crowd of rubberneckers.” Aina snickers again and leans out of the way as Galo aims a friendly jab at her side. “But still, you looked...upset. And you’re never upset. Well, _almost _never.” She glances aside as she remembers the weeks following Galo’s final confrontation with Kray Foresight and the dark gloom that seemed to follow him back to the station from the courthouse throughout the litany of hearings. Seeing their favorite bright, bold idiot looking so deflated was rough on the entire Burning Rescue squad –– it was always an unspoken relief when Lio would materialize by Galo’s side not long after he returned, silently emerging from an office upstairs or rolling in on one of the rescue bikes with the same precise fluidity he brought to everything he did. Watching him gravitate towards Galo was like watching two puzzle pieces fit together; with a hand on his back or a shout of his name Galo would look down and the stars in his eyes would align once more.

It was like they breathed life into one another, an exchange of color and sparks until at least one of them had enough fire to keep them both warm. And today, beneath all the pizza and the confidence and jokes, there was something undeniably cold about Galo Thymos. 

“So,” Aina continues carefully, “before I spend the rest of my Saturday chasing answers out of you, is there any chance you’ll tell me what’s going on between you and Lio?” Galo lets out a long sigh, his cheeks puffed as his breath fogs up the glass of the dessert case.

“I…” he begins, his voice low and more serious than Aina usually hears outside of emergency scenarios, “...I messed up this morning.” Aina raises a single rosy eyebrow. With the usual caliber of shenanigans Galo gets up to during any given workday, she can’t imagine him doing much differently at home; if the two men still lived in relative harmony after almost half a year, certainly Lio had to be used to some, to put it kindly, bullshit. 

She doesn’t say this, though, because that would just be mean. Instead, she goes: “Like...physically messed up? Like you broke something of his, or…?” He shakes his head, blue spires of hair swinging in every direction. 

“No, like…” he trails off, “Like I said something I shouldn’t have. Something I’ve never said before.” The same icy dread from the previous morning pools in Galo’s stomach again, and he drops his head to rest against the glass. Aina watches him take a few deep breaths (in through the nose and out through the mouth, the same way they advise civilians to do) and suddenly remembers their first afternoon at the frozen mountain lake. _Cooling off, _the memory reminds her in Galo’s voice. 

She doesn’t interrupt as his voice catches in his throat a few times, and the foreign sensation of speechlessness is enough to send hot anxiety prickling up his neck. Aina seems to sense his tension and puts a hand to his broad back, rubbing gentle, grounding circles into the space between his shoulder blades.

“Why don’t you just try telling me what happened?” Galo exhales slowly once more, the glass beneath his face clouding with fog. A little voice from within warns him that he might be thinking too much. He almost laughs; he’s just full of surprises today. And since when did his conscience begin to sound like Lio? 

Eh. Fuck it. He’s pretty sure it would only irritate Aina to find out from anyone but him anyways. Like he always says, act in the moment, think about the rest later.

“I said ‘I love you’ in front of Lio,” Galo blurts decidedly, picking his head back up. His eyes fall to Lio’s favorite strawberry cannoli again, pretty and inviting among the rows of sweets. It’s the last one. “Well, more like _ to _ him. Kinda. On accident.” _ Kinda, _he wants to add again, but for once he manages to hold his tongue. 

Aina’s hand on his back stops abruptly, and glancing over, he can see her eyes growing as big as saucers. Her first words are nearly a shout: “You _what?!” _She claps her hands over her own mouth and tries again, her reassuring “rescue voice” faltering as questions spill from her lips. “I mean! When did you-, uh, did, did he-? _How?” _

Ever the trained professional, she sucks in a breath, her face journeying from shock to something more contemplative before settling on absolutely dumbstruck. A blush races across Galo’s cheeks, almost angry in its redness. 

“I-I dunno! It just _happened! _It’s not like I _ meant _ to or anything, I was just heading out for a run and he was getting ready to go meet up with Guiera and Meis or something and I knew I probably wouldn’t see him until later– hey, _quit making that face—” _

“I’m not making a face,” Aina lies immediately, her face propped in her hands and split into a cheek-to-cheek grin. “So what, you put on your best frilly apron, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and promised to have dinner ready by the time he got back?” The laugh that escapes him is surprisingly weightless considering the heavy fear trying to settle its way into his chest. He’s grateful for it, and she’s equally grateful for the tiny smile quirking up at the corners of his mouth.

“_ No, _ though I did remind him that we need more cereal.” Galo runs a hand through his hair, sighing through his nose as he drops down to sit on the floor entirely. Chief probably wouldn’t mind –– as if to confirm his hunch, the older man catches sight of the movement by his dessert counter and shoots him a kind smile. “I was running through the list with him the way we always do; we need more cereal, don’t forget to pick up your leather from the dry cleaners, try to be back in time for _Promepolis’ Next Top Chef, _no, I’m not gonna watch it without you, I-” 

Galo trails off as his memory finishes the sentence: _“I love you.”_ Aina nods, her delighted grin relaxing into something more understanding as she fills in the blank he leaves in the air. 

“It just slipped out?” she suggests, and he nods.

“Yeah. Something like that.” Aina gives him a moment to breathe before asking the next question racing through her mind.

“So...how did he react?” Galo shrugs.

“Not sure. The moment I realized what I’d said, I bolted outta there. I...” He trails off again, worry casting a dark shadow over his brow. “I guess I didn’t feel like sticking around.”

Aina’s hand returns to his shoulder, and when he doesn’t shrug it off, she gives it a comforting squeeze. “Galo…” she begins, and the blue-haired man braces himself to be called an idiot.

“...have you really never said ‘I love you’ to someone before?” Galo meets his friend’s eyes and is surprised to find a quiet firmness shimmering within them. 

“I...don’t think so? Not that I can remember, anyways.” He’s sure he’s loved people before. He’d loved his parents, if the lonely ache that pulls at his heart when he remembers the time-worn blur of their faces is any indication. He loves his Burning Rescue team for sure –– their combined dedication is partly what keeps his firefighting soul blazing strong despite the distinct lack of excitement since the loss of the Promare. And pizza. Galo _knows _he loves pizza. 

“Pizza isn’t a _person. _It doesn’t count,” Aina deadpans. Oops. He must have said that last part out loud. “And I’ve heard you tell pizza you love it. Several times.” Galo frowns.

“Okay, well, if pizza doesn’t count, then no, I guess I’ve never really said it to another person before. Which makes it extra weird that I just blurted it out this morning.” Aina taps a finger to her chin briefly in thought. 

“What were you thinking about when you said it?”

“That’s just it, I wasn’t thinking about anything! Like I said, on days when we have separate schedules, Lio and I usually go through a list of errands and stuff to remember before we get home.” Galo scratches at the back of his neck. “It’s usually him doing more of the reminding, but sometimes I’m on top of things.” 

Aina can hear Lucia’s voice in the back of her head prodding her to make a joke out of that, but she waves the impulse off. Above them, Chief walks up from behind the counter, and the two firefighters are momentarily distracted as he extracts a slice of cheesecake in a burst of refrigerated air, their eyes following the plate as he walks off to serve it to a waiting couple. As the patrons’ hands intertwine over the table, Aina can’t help but notice the way Galo laces his fingers together in his lap.

“Galo,” she begins tentatively, “is that really _ all _ you think about when you look at Lio? Chores and to-do lists and stuff?” The pilot is pretty certain of what he’s going to say before he even speaks, but she wants to hear his answer –– better yet, she wants _him _to hear his answer. 

He shakes his head almost immediately. “What, no, of course not! He’s not just some boring old roommate or whatever, he and I are bound by the fiery trails of fate and time and all that other boring space stuff that that old pharmacist told us about!” Galo visibly puffs up with conviction as he keeps going, looking more and more like his old self with every passing second. Aina thinks again of the way he brightens around Lio –– apparently the thought of the other man alone is still enough to rekindle the firefighter’s passionate spirit, a struck match to tinder. “He’s the only one in this world whose soul burns just as bright as my own! I'll be by his side through spark and flame, and I know he'd do the same for me! I love-!” 

Galo claps his mouth shut with an audible click as his teeth crash together. Aina points a manicured fingernail right between his eyes, her expression reading a single statement: _Busted! _

“You-! You almost said it again!” 

“I know!”

“That’s twice in one day!”

“I _know!” _

“Wait, did you really just say that you thought Deus Prometh was a _pharmacist_\- y’know what, actually, don’t answer that.” Her ponytail swings violently as she shakes her head and lowers her hand to jab insistently at his chest. “Galo Thymos! Are you hearing yourself right now?! I’ve got half a mind to think that the only reason you won’t let yourself say you’re in love with Lio Fotia is because you hardly know what being in love even _ is. _” Galo’s look turns sheepish, and he fiddles with his hands for a second as he looks away.

“I know what being in love is,” he fusses, “It’s just never happened to me before. I’ve spent all my time up until now thinking about how I could make things better for everyone’s sake the way Kray...the way I _thought _Kray was doing. Ways I could be a hero, y’know? Even now, there’s still a lot of work to be done and people out there that need help. You know that.” Aina gives him an affirming nod, her brow knitting slightly with her own Burning Rescue devotion. “I just kept myself busy for so long that I didn’t feel like I had to worry about love.”

Aina tilts her head thoughtfully. “I guess it snuck up on you, then.” Galo’s eyes meander back to the strawberry cannoli, and he can almost swear he sees one of Lio’s decreasingly-rare smiles reflecting back at him through the glass.

“Yeah,” he finally admits, warmth curling around his heart like a long-awaited spring after winter. “Guess it did.” The smile Aina gives him is unexpectedly proud, and he finds it comforting in a strange way. _Everything _feels a little more comfortable now; the cheerful autumn sunlight streaming in through the windows is no longer bright and offending, the din of people talking around him is no longer smothering and messy, and Galo feels the telltale burn of his passionate spirit returning to his chest, intertwined with bubbles of sunny excitement. 

Galo Thymos, the universe’s number one firefighting idiot, is in love with Lio Fotia, the ice-cold firestarter that made a home of his heart.

Oh god, and he told him so as he _left. _No declaration of passion, no grand explosions or power poses, none of the usual fanfare that would accompany a usual statement from a firefighter of his caliber. Just three words tripping off his tongue clumsily as he pulled on a pair of beat-up gym shoes. 

His excitement threatens to snuff into disappointment just as quickly as it flared up. He’s willing to admit he’s no expert on love, but there has to be _ something _he can do to make up for his not-so-smooth confession; or worst case scenario, if Lio didn’t want to hear it, he could at least make up for being gone for half of the day.

Ah. He hadn’t really considered that last part –– according to television (and a handful of tearful late-night calls from Aina), liking someone wasn’t always enough to be in a relationship. The other person has to like you _back. _

Aina frowns as she watches doubt creep into Galo’s expression; he’s been thinking for too long. She snaps her fingers in front of his face a few times, as if trying to get a puppy’s attention.

“Hey, Galo! C’mon, big guy, wake up!” He blinks himself out of his miniature spiral and she welcomes him back with a bemused smile. “You’re so in your head today, it’s weirding me out. I’m not used to you thinking this much.” Galo rubs at his temples.

“You’re telling me. My head’s starting to hurt.”

“What were you thinking about? You were starting to look like you’d upset yourself again.” Galo tilts his head back, strong chin jutting up as he stares at the ceiling. The pizza chef swings around from behind a corner, tossing a towel over his shoulder, and Galo reaches up and gives him a friendly fist bump as he passes by. Aina takes a moment to glance around the restaurant; for two pretty recognizable public figures, for once they’re not getting a lot of stares as they have their little heart-to-heart on the floor. She supposes it’s a perk of minor celebrity –– they can afford to get away with a little more.

“Aina,” Galo begins, his voice soft and a little vulnerable like a chink in armor. “What if Lio doesn’t love me?”

“Lio loves you,” she answers immediately, her tone as sure as if he’d suggested the sky weren’t blue. “Romantically or not, Lio loves you.” He spares her a glance.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means what I said it means! Even if Lio just wants to be friends, there’s no way he doesn’t love you. Friends love each other like family. And you brought him into the Burning Rescue family the moment you two idiots hopped into that robot.” She rolls her eyes good-naturedly at the absurd memory. “_Especially _when Lio did that trick with the flames to give it that Burnish armor. God, you should’ve heard Lucia going nuts over that thing, she nearly shorted out the comms with her screeching. Anyway, the bottom line is that you’re his best friend –– I’d be really surprised if he gave you up this easily.”

“Even if he doesn’t feel the same?” Aina’s ponytail bounces optimistically as she nods.

“Sure do. I mean, look at us –– we’re not dating and I love you just fine.” Galo’s cheeks warm pleasantly; Aina has a way of always reminding him how grateful he is for the home he’s found with the rescue unit, Kray and his “mortality rate” be damned.

“Besides,” she adds offhandedly, “you’re pretty much his only meal ticket. I don’t think he’s gonna find rent any cheaper than yours in this part of the city.” She winks, but her voice is laced with honeyed sincerity as she continues. “He needs you. You two are symbiotic, remember?”

If the fuzzy feelings flooding into his chest are any indication, Galo thinks he’s finally starting to understand the meaning of the word.

“Thanks, Aina. For, y’know, following me out here. I really mean it.” 

“Anytime,” she replies, standing and pulling her hands above her head in a well-deserved stretch. Something in her elbow gives a loud _ pop!, _and he reaches over and pats it as he stands as well, massaging slowly at the back of his neck. “Just promise me you’ll try to tell people you love ‘em a little more often. You’ve got a lot of people that care about you.” Galo lets out a soft chuckle.

“Alright, if you say so.” He pauses decisively, and Aina can almost sense what he’s going to say next: “Aina, I lov-” The pilot all but shoves her hand into his mouth to stop the words before they tumble out, squeezing his face with one hand until his cheeks are too squished for him to keep talking.

“_Ah! _Not to me! Not when we’ve just spent all this time talking about Lio!” Galo pouts as best he can, the expression ending up a little fish-like.

“But I’ve already said it to him!”

“Saying ‘I love you _too’ _is just as important as saying ‘I love you’, dummy! And there’s no way I’m letting you spend your first one on me-” She cuts herself off as the steady purr of a motorcycle engine approaches from outside the restaurant. 

Peeking around the larger man’s frame, she catches a glimpse of the patio, where a flash of familiar blond hair shines in the sun like a bolt of midday lightning. Galo follows her gaze, and his heart launches itself into his throat as a rescue-orange motorbike slides gracefully up to the curb. Blood pumping in his ears, he hardly hears the abrupt fade of the engine as the key is pulled from the ignition. His eyes lock with Aina’s, and hers scream the same thing he’s simultaneously fearing and hoping for more than anything in the world: _Lio. _

Aina leaps into action first; she releases his jaw and whisper-hisses, _“Act natural!” _Before he can get a chance to ask what the hell that looks like, she’s already bolted halfway across the restaurant, making a beeline for the table with the rest of their Burning Rescue team. Galo thanks whatever god is listening as he hears her calling out to Lio, waving him over to come greet the others. Stalling.

Galo’s inner voice stirs again, this time sounding definitively like Lio as it makes gentle suggestions: _you should try to calm down, Galo, you should try to think of something to say, Galo, you should breathe, you’ve been holding your breath for like, a minute straight, Galo_, etc. He only really addresses the last one, all other options thrown out the window as he dives straight into his normal method –– act first, think later. It hasn’t failed him so far. 

His eyes drift downward to the dessert case, and a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth as his desire to make an attempt at romance comes back in full force.

_ That’ll work. _

Lio strolls into the restaurant just as Galo’s flagging Chief down, pointing to the strawberry cannoli still sitting pretty on its bed of sugar-dusted wax paper and practically bouncing with excitement.

“You remembered,” Lio says, heeled boots clicking against the tile as he comes to stand by the taller man. The door of the dessert case slides open and he folds his arms over his chest, a shiver rippling through him even with the thick sweatshirt that threatens to swallow him whole. 

Galo glances at the FDPP logo plastered across his partner’s chest and his mouth goes a little dry. It’s far from the first time Lio’s worn his clothes, and while he’s never had trouble acknowledging that Lio looks good in pretty much anything, the afternoons revelations have him seeing the ex-Burnish in an entirely different light. 

Yeah, he could get used to this. 

He must take too long to respond, because Lio turns to him, eyebrow raised in a patient question. Galo quickly flits his gaze back up, hoping Lio wouldn’t notice the way his eyes lingered on the curve of loose fabric tracing the dip of his waistline. He clears his throat a little too hard, his ears going pink.

“Heh, of course I did, we’re here all the time! Though, I was counting on this time being more of a surprise.” He shoots Lio a playful smirk, and Lio returns it wholeheartedly. The leftover tension settled in Galo’s stomach melts away, a comforting fire kindling in its place. 

“Sorry,” Lio says without remorse, his nonchalance somewhat watered down by the eager way his eyes follow the dessert as Chief slides it into a waiting to-go box. “I was on my way back from the cleaners, and I just...” He interrupts himself to give a small shrug. “...I figured I’d find you here.” 

Chief picks up a nearby can of extra whipped cream and points it towards the box, eyes darting up to Lio’s in a silent question. Stray blond hairs flutter artfully around his face as he gives a subtle nod, and a swirl of fluffy cream is piled onto the roll of pastry and fruit. Anyone else would miss the way the Burnish leader rocks up onto his toes as the box is handed over the counter, but not Galo, who debates on whether or not now is a good time to get his daily dose of height jokes in. 

He reluctantly decides against it, a cold stab of guilt resonating through his body instead as he remembers that he’s hardly attempted to reach his partner since he left the apartment.

“Shit, Lio, I’m sorry-”

“Aren’t you going to get anything?” Lio cuts him off, abrupt but not entirely unkind. Galo blinks in the aftermath, but shakes his head, thumbs fiddling with the box’s open lid.

“Nah, I’m still pretty full from the pizza.” Lio hums in response and pops a slice of strawberry in his mouth, the decorative flower now missing a petal. A childlike thought, hopeful and sweet, rushes to the forefront of Galo’s mind: _He loves me. _

“Are you sure?” Lio asks, looking a bit skeptical when Galo nods; he knows good and well that the man’s appetite is nearly insatiable. “Alright, if you say so. I’m holding you to that, no begging for a piece later.”

“You know I’m not _actually _a dog, right?” Slender fingers snatch another strawberry from the box, two fruity petals now gone as Lio’s fingertips begin to stain red. Galo wilts. _ He loves me not. _Lio, on the other hand, smirks.

“I wouldn’t have guessed.” Lio’s about to dive into his food again when the soft styrofoam of the box lid clamps down around his hand. 

“Ah, ah!” Galo scolds jokingly, “Cut that out, you’ve got germy bike hands.” Lio’s mouth presses into an unamused line, Galo snorting as he recognizes the expression as the Burnish leader’s way of pouting. He jerks his head in the direction of the table full of their friends. “If you wanna sit down and eat, we can.” He glances away, hoping the light flush of his cheeks isn’t too noticeable. “Everyone’s been asking about you today.” 

Lio seems reluctant as he shakes his head. 

“Actually, I only came by to pick you up.” As confusion furrows Galo’s brow, he continues. “I handled the dry cleaning, but we’ve still got laundry to do back home. It’ll be faster if the two of us just get it done now.” If Galo didn’t know any better, he’d say Lio looked a little sorry, lavender eyes deliberately avoiding his. “I know you’re with your friends, but…”

Galo swings an arm around him, effectively cutting him off as he shakes him gently by the shoulder. Lio startles, his composure ruffled in the way only Galo seems to get away with. 

“Hey, c’mon! There’s no way I’d make you lug all of that around on your own.” His voice softens as he reminds him in a whisper: “They’re your friends too, y’know. I’m sure they’ll understand.” Lio gives a silent nod and lets himself be steered towards the patio, grateful that Galo is too busy grinning to notice the shell of his ear reddening to a deep crimson where his lips just were.

▲▼▲

The group does, in fact, understand, though Remi makes a point of getting Galo an individual bill before he lets them leave. 

Lio lingers quietly by the table as he pays, still not quite sure how to address the Burning Rescue members outside of work. They seem to have no problem welcoming him; Varys and Remi both tilt their respective glasses his way in greeting, and Aina sends him a dazzling smile, looking strangely excited. Lucia shoots him an entirely indecipherable wink, waving her straw, and the best he can offer in return is an awkward twitch of a smile. Lio remembers what Galo had said about the group asking about him –– just what exactly had they been asking _about _?

The question sits unspoken on the tip of his tongue all the way through the ride back to their apartment, and when his heart involuntarily begins to race as he crosses the threshold of the door, he wishes he could swallow the unsure words whole. 

He doesn’t need to ask. He knows. Or at least, he has a feeling –– a burdensome, trembling feeling that settles like a rock in the pit of his stomach, but a feeling nonetheless. Galo’s mouth runs a mile a minute on a slow day; there’s no way the others didn’t know.

So why hasn’t Galo said anything to _him? _He hadn’t been invited out for pizza, which was understandable –– Lio had gotten a hunch that his partner’s little slip of the tongue had been a surprise to them both, if the way he dropped off the face of the earth for most of the day was any clue. The impromptu group dinner seemed like a textbook “Galo Thymos Is Losing His Shit” move, and he could live with that. After all, he’d spent his own Saturday letting Gueria and Meis’ antics entertain him as they accompanied him on a borderline exhaustive list of errands he’d made up on the fly; “Lio Fotia Is Losing His Shit” at its finest.

Still, didn’t he deserve the courtesy of a conversation at the very least? Lio didn’t want to hear apologies –– he thinks he made that pretty clear back in the restaurant ––, but he wants to talk about it_. _He wants to _know, _know “_since when?” _and “_why now?”_ and “_do you?”, _the latter most of all. “I love you”s don’t just fall from the sky, they spark and build and grow as they’re fed little by little, a wildfire in the blink of an eye. 

He should know. 

Lio Fotia has been in love for three months and eight- no, nine days. And this morning had been, so far, his only signal that maybe, _maybe, _the great Galo Thymos had finally noticed.

Lio can’t think on it too long, not when his roaring pulse threatens to rip itself out of him like this. He remembers his patience, inhaling deeply until his breath stops rattling nervously in his ribs. For once, he’s grateful for the lack of ghostly Burnish flame vibrating under his skin. If he still had his powers, he was certain his emotions would’ve torn themselves free long ago, a flare of dragon fire blanketing a city still too hurt to survive such a thing a second time. He couldn’t do that to all of their hard work like that; at least, not because of his dick alone. 

A touch on his arm ejects Lio out of his thoughts, and he crashes back to Earth just in time to see Galo slipping past him to move through the doorway –– he hadn’t realized he’d frozen with his hand in midair, still holding the key. 

Galo makes a contented noise as he looks to the laundry Lio left in the living room, the neat piles one casualty of Lio’s attempt to ground himself in practicality throughout the day. Galo will surely find others later: the vacuumed carpet in the bedroom, the scrubbed-out bathtub, the fact that the fraction of an inch of milk in the fridge had _finally _been tossed out and replaced with a fresh gallon — Lio was rather happy with that one. 

For now, though, he just accepts the larger man’s grateful smile and shovels the laundry into bags, keeping them separate as best he can as he layers the stacks on top of one another and tries not to get distracted by the way Galo’s muscles flex under his shirt as he hoists a bag over one shoulder. 

“Lio,” Galo says, and the man in question blinks, feeling as though he’s just woken up. Oops. Guess he got distracted. “You doing okay, man?”

Lio doesn’t miss the way Galo swallows as he addresses him, not meeting his eyes as if he already knew the obvious answer. They could very well keep doing this dance throughout the night, Galo squirming and tiptoeing around the elephant in the room, Lio teetering on the edge of all-out combustion; something flares up in Lio’s chest, as emboldened by the risk as he was during their first battle on the blazing rooftop. If Galo wants to dance, so be it –– as long as Lio gets to lead. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he begins, pouring as much intensity into his stare as he can muster. It seems to work; Galo’s grip around the laundry bag tightens, his veins flexing with the movement.“It’s just been a while since I’ve seen you wear a shirt for this long. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say something was wrong with you.” 

Galo, as literal as ever, looks genuinely crestfallen. “I know, _right?! _I put it on to go get pizza, and now I can’t take it off because we have to go out _again!” _He slings the second bag of laundry over his other shoulder, the one holding Lio’s to-be-washed clothes. Lio can’t say he understands why they always separate them — half of his clothes were Galo’s anyway (the other half being, of course, leather).

“Let’s hurry up and get this over with, yeah? I’m ready to get comfortable.” Lio blinks owlishly as Galo ducks out of the apartment to go load the bike, unsure of whether to be endeared or irritated by the other man’s obliviousness. 

He resolves to decide on the way, rushing out after his roommate into the stretching shadows of approaching dusk. 

▲▼▲

The laundromat is empty when they roll up, peaceful twilight streaming through the windows as the machines softly rumble through their cycles. Galo holds the door open as Lio retrieves their laundry from the containers on either side of his bike, the custom ride a welcome gift from Lucia. 

They have their pick of the machines, and the two men easily fall into a quiet rhythm of unpacking and loading and turning dials, as practiced of a team as they are at the firehouse. Galo frowns over his pile of whites. 

“Hey, Lio, did we forget the-?” Lio slides the bottle of detergent to him before he can even finish, amusement quirking up the corners of his lips. 

“I started keeping it in the bag after that time you ran all the way back home.” A warmth spreads through Galo’s chest — it certainly isn’t the first time Lio’s refereed to their apartment as “home”, but it gets better every time. 

Lio finishes setting up his clothes to wash before he does, hopping quickly up to sit on a still machine next to Galo. The firefighter is suddenly all too aware of their proximity, the hair on the back of his neck beginning to stand on end as his skin heats. 

He startles as a plastic _pop! _interrupts the din of tumbling water and suds — he looks up to find Lio staring at him curiously, the cannoli box balanced in his lap. 

“You sure you’re okay?” the shorter man questions, his tone as slow and subtly goading as a stalking predator. “You seem jumpy.”

“I’m fine,” he answers, and he winces at the way his voice cracks as he speaks. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind today.”

“Like what?” Lio fishes around in his box for the fork, feigning nonchalance as he takes it in his hand and scoops up a plume of whipped cream. He stabs the utensil into another piece of the strawberry flower, and it loses most of its shape, slices of fruit sliding down the pastry in every direction. Galo’s brain starts up its tally again as he openly ogles the path the sweet takes to Lio’s mouth; _Loves me. _

For once, he actually thinks before speaking again. He’s starting to pick up on what Lio wants to hear, but Galo can’t be sure, and he won’t be the one to get the rug swept out from under him. Not without knowing Lio will be there to catch him.

“Lio, do you know what ‘symbiotic’ means?” 

Lio pauses, eyebrow raised with a forkful of cannoli halfway to his mouth. 

“Sure. Parasitism or something like that. A relationship where at least one half needs each other to survive, even if it hurts the other.” He seems to visibly dim, his gaze flitting towards the window. Galo’s brows knit together –– Lio’s definition didn’t seem to line up with the Burning Rescue team’s idea from earlier. 

“Where’d you hear that?” Lio shrugs.

“After you get called a parasite enough times, you tend to look it up.” Righteous anger fills Galo’s lungs for Lio’s sake, and the ex-Burnish lets out a laugh as he watches him visibly puff up with indignation, like a loud porcupine. As the breathy, bubbly sound carries through the air, Galo deflates, all upset draining from his body as its chased away by his best friend’s smile. It’s specifically the smile reserved for when he’s about to be called an idiot, but it’s the one that crosses Lio’s face most often, and he’s grateful to see it.

“Calm down, idiot, it’s no big deal. I’ve been called way worse,” Lio says next, his pastry crunching as he cuts a piece from it. Another strawberry goes with it. _Loves me not. _ Galo lets his eyes drift down to the box in Lio’s lap. 

There’s one strawberry slice left. 

Lio follows his line of sight, his mouth pressing into a possessive line as he piles more cream onto his fork. “_No, _you can’t have any.”

Galo’s eyes snap back up to Lio’s face as he realizes that from Lio’s point of view, he just zoned out to openly ogle his crotch. He crouches down to avoid eye contact, busying himself with staring down his laundry as it rolls around in the machine, a soothing mess of water and suds. He misses the smug look that crosses Lio’s face as his skin burns red. 

“Why do you ask, anyway?” 

“Uh…” Galo begins dumbly, his heart rate picking up. He might as well tell him; if nothing else, at least any future teasing from the rest of the gang will have context. “The squad at dinner today...they were talking about that kind of science stuff. Saying we have a ‘symbiotic relationship’ and that you and I ‘need each other to survive’. Mutual benefits,” he remembers, parroting Remi’s phrasing from earlier.

He risks a glance at Lio, and to his surprise, the smaller man has turned a dangerous shade of crimson. His rescue instinct immediately kicks in –– he’s never seen Lio this way before, even when pissed out of his mind (though he guesses people don’t _usually _turn pitch black, either). “Whoa, jeez! Lio, are you oka-?!” 

He’s about to stand when two skinny legs vacuum-packed into skintight jeans come down to aggressively frame the washing machine in front of him. Galo looks up, and with the halo of the laundromat fluorescents behind him, Lio radiates commanding energy like a furnace gives off heat, the gold of his hair both angelic and harsh in the light. Galo swallows thickly. He has to hand it to him; the Promare could leave the dimension all they wanted, Lio Fotia makes a throne of everything he touches.

“You know, Galo,” Lio begins, and Galo offhandedly wonders if his heels are sharp enough to cut off his head. Something boiling low in his stomach wants to find out. He pushes the thought aside, hanging off of his partner’s every word for dear life. 

If you’re Galo Thymos, you know that Lio gets a certain glint in his eye when he decides it’s time to do or die. Galo’s seen it plenty of times, through the cyan glow of a robotic superweapon, the mint flames of total world combustion, when there’s one more slice of pizza in the fridge –– okay, that last one was a little different from the other contexts, but his point stands. It’s an animalistic trait, unique to a man who’s outran the entire world.

The glint sparkles in his eyes now, and it’s wildness travels through the connection between them like a live wire, surging into Galo at the spot where Lio’s heel rests on his shoulder, daring him to move.

He doesn’t. He knows better than to interrupt when Lio is about to try something. 

“‘I love you’ isn’t such a bad thing to say,” Lio finishes, voice firm and unwavering. He decisively spears the last strawberry slice onto his fork, electricity crackling through their held gaze. Galo doesn’t even try blinking, pupils blown wide like a cornered animal. “They say it’s even better to hear said back.”

Galo, never one to back down from a challenge, smirks despite his hammering heart: “Who’s ‘they’?” 

Surprisingly, Lio’s mouth ticks up in an affectionate smile as he lets out a huff of a laugh, so small it’s almost a secret. It’s not enough to shatter his imposing demeanor, and Galo doesn’t mind; he relishes in being trusted with the leader of Mad Burnish’s softer side, even when he’s literally looking down on him. 

“Guiera. Meis.” Galo feels the intensity of Lio’s stare leave him as his gaze drifts to the side, glazing over with quiet sentiment as he thinks of his friends. “They’ve said it to each other enough times, so I guess they’re a somewhat credible reference this time.”

Lio’s fork idles in the air between them, and Galo takes the opportunity to lunge upwards and steal the strawberry, lips closing around the fruit just as Lio looks back to him. _He loves me! _He cheers internally before correcting himself: _I love him. _

Lio watches the triumph cross his face and gapes slightly, his lips pursing into a little ‘o’ before spreading into a sly smile.

“Bastard.” Galo risks an impish smoulder. 

“You love me.” He means it as a tease, but Lio goes deathly, alarmingly quiet. The energy between them wavers, a game of balance and control usually reserved for emergency situations. Or the TV remote. Whichever the day calls for. Galo’s never been one to enjoy stillness of any kind, but Lio has a way of making the dead air oppressive, as if he can force his vision to tunnel until everything that isn’t him fades away.

Maybe that was just his effect on Galo.

“You love me?” Galo repeats, voice lowering as it lilts with sincere question.

Lio stares. 

Galo stares back, his head cocked to one side in the puppy-like way that he does. 

Lio cocks his head to the opposite side, and Galo mirrors him, a clumsy, giddy grin blossoming and threatening to split his face in two. Something goes soft in his sky-colored eyes just as something else entirely seems to click behind Lio’s –– a decision.

Lio leans forward, excruciatingly slow as he presses their foreheads together the way they’ve done a hundred times before during many a hushed conversation. He lets his eyes flutter closed, the tips of his fair lashes close enough to tickle against Galo’s skin. Galo’s heartbeat threatens to rattle his ribs, vibrant electricity coursing through every nerve in his body. He can’t tell if Lio’s offering him an invitation or not, but then again, it’s not like he ever really waits for permission to do anything. It would be so easy to just...

He starts once, then twice, gently nudging his chin forward into the barest brush of lips. Lio’s eyes go half-lidded, open again just long enough for him to go, “Well…?” 

Galo’s hesitation evaporates with that one little word, and he rocks forward just enough to press a short kiss to Lio’s mouth, the contact pleasant but feather-light and asking more than it tells. _Is this okay? _

A moment passes between them. Amethyst eyes open once more, unfocused and blinking rapidly as if starstruck. They lock eyes, and Galo swears he can hear the click of a lighter.

Lio moves with all the speed of a man once hunted, fist closing around the fabric of Galo’s shirt and pulling the taller man down to crush their lips together. Their second kiss is gasoline, hot and chemical as it reacts between them. A kaleidoscope bursts behind Galo’s eyes as he wrenches them shut, rising to his feet to angle his head properly for slotting their mouths together. The space between them is mostly gone, and Lio’s hand releases his shirt in favor of feeling its way up the side of his neck, the fabric of his gloves brushing Galo’s skin in a way that earns him a strangled growl from deep in the larger man’s throat. Lio laughs blissfully, unable to fight off his smile without breaking the kiss, and Galo takes the opportunity to pepper kisses across his cheeks, nose, eyes — anywhere he can reach. 

He’s just venturing up the curve of his jaw when Lio takes his face in his hands, forcefully turning him back to his lips. _“Here,” _he commands without words, and Galo is more than happy to oblige him. Lio doesn’t release his hold on his face, tipping his chin backwards to curl over him like he were his last meal. His gloved thumb rubs idle circles into the space by his ear, and Galo’s lips part in a quiet sigh — Lio’s tongue is halfway down his throat in a matter of seconds, crashing sloppily against teeth and goading Galo’s into its reckless dance. 

Galo tastes strawberries and cream on Lio’s tongue, and he finds it as gross as he does intoxicating, absolutely drunk on the way Lio scrambles for him, somehow equal parts needy and in complete control as he works Galo’s lips pliant beneath his own. He’s fine to relent, mouth open and beautifully cooperative as Lio takes his bottom lip between his teeth, his bite sharp and careless like a viper. 

Galo gets the feeling that Lio had wanted him to do this much, _much _earlier. Oh well; at least sharing a bed was about to get _way_ more fun.

The only bad part is that they have to breath eventually, warm breath ghosting off of their skin (when did Galo start _ sweating? _) as they bring their foreheads back together, delicate strands of blond and blue intertwining between their eyes. 

“You love me,” Galo repeats one more time, a statement sure and firm. Lio nods against his head.

“I love you, Galo Thymos.” He savors his name on his tongue, taking a moment to smile before adding, “Even if you only love me on accident.” 

This time Lio’s the one to kiss at his cheeks, a pleasant pinkness blooming in the spots where his lips meet. Galo chuckles and guides him back until their eyes lock, his touch more gentle than Lio’s as the signature burn of their twin passion flickers between them. 

“Lio Fotia...” he says, and he pauses for dramatic effect, holding the silence until Lio pushes against the point where their heads meet, a gently impatient headbutt. Galo laughs, and Lio relishes in feeling the sound vibrate through his bones. 

“Idiot,” Lio says for good measure. Galo sticks his tongue out at him, and it retreats back into his mouth before Lio can lean forward to capture it again. He doesn’t mind; he’ll have plenty of time to put the appendage to work later.

“Lio,” Galo begins again, voice breathy and fond. “I know I’ve said we have matching souls all this time, but that’s not entirely true. Actually, I think half of my burning soul belongs to you. You’re everything to me, my very best friend, and my one and only first lit fire. There’s no one I’d rather be symbiotic with.” Galo pulls back enough to see Lio’s expression, and a rush of smitten giddiness floods through him as he takes in his smile, wider and brighter than he’s ever seen it as entire constellations dance in his eyes. Love looks good on Lio, even as it twists into his usual playful expression.

“Should I have prepared a speech too?” Galo shrugs.

“It wasn’t mandatory, but we can work on your presentation later.” Lio rolls his eyes and reaches for him; Galo gladly lets himself be pulled close again, and he gives his partner another brief kiss before continuing. 

“I love you, Lio,” Galo confesses, fire in his eyes. “On purpose.” The satisfaction that washes over Lio’s expression is worth a thousand pictures, and he commits the face to memory as Lio’s hands work their way into his hair with a whispered _“I love you so much_.”

“I love you too,” Galo responds for the first time in his life. He decides it was worth the wait as he pulls him into an embrace, a smile crossing Lio’s face that threatens to snuff out the stars. 

“Oh my _god,” _ Lio groans into his neck, and Galo flushes — he could get used to that. “I can’t wait for this laundry to be _done _already.” He pushes his way out of their hug, his cheeks puffing into a rare pout. “I want to go _home _.” Galo smirks.

“Don’t worry, I made sure your little cooking show would record last night, you’re not missing anything.” The look Lio gives him would be withering were he not still pouting.

“Galo Thymos, you are _so lucky _you’re cute.”

“I know, right?!” Lio laughs as Galo’s arms snake around him, the last of the daylight sinking off the laundromat walls. One hand slides up his back, another looping around his hips to coax Lio’s legs into wrapping around his hips, and they’re just sealing the distance between them when—

_ Splat! _

The last of Lio’s cannoli goes careening out of his lap and onto the floor, but not before smearing globs of pink and white whipped cream between their flushed torsos. Most of the initial mess is on Galo, sliding clumsily off of his shirt to deposit itself squarely onto Lio’s jeans. Lio winces as it drips down the fabric of his crotch; restoring the pants in enough time to continue wearing them today would take a miracle. Galo lets out a disgruntled noise, the cream gathering on his hands as he makes a futile effort to wipe it off.

“Shit, Lio, I’m sorry,” he begins, but Lio shakes his head.

“It wasn’t your fault, I forgot it was there.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Actually, it wasn’t _just _your fault.” Galo flicks some cream in his direction in response, and Lio laughs, the dollop landing right on his somewhat-swollen bottom lip. He licks it into his mouth, grinning devilishly as Galo momentarily short-circuits, his ears turning as violently red as a Burning Rescue truck. 

“Well,” Lio continues, swiping a finger through the milky sugar collecting on Galo’s hem. He lets it hover by his mouth for a second before he reaches out, plopping it squarely onto Galo’s nose. “At least we’re already washing our clothes.” Galo’s eyes cross as he tries to focus on the tiny cloud on his nose, and Lio’s heart melts just a little, putty in the firefighter’s muscled hands. _Cute. _

“Wait, you wanna wash these right _now?” _

“I don’t see why not,” Lio answers simply, sliding down the machines until he has room to hop off, his fingers already working at his belt as he turns towards the back of the room. “Unless, of course, you have some kind of _problem _with taking your shirt off…” Amethyst eyes cloud over with smoldering heat, the implication hanging in the air sweeter than any dessert. His voice is deceptively level as he continues: “I know you don’t get naked just for fun, but...why don’t you come demonstrate some of those...what did you call them? _Mutual benefits?” _

Galo’s shirt is already halfway over his head before Lio even finishes his sentence, and the shorter man winks as he ducks into a corner, the challenge between them burning hotter than ever before. 

“Only if you promise to take care of me too, alright?” he calls out, strolling his way down the row of rumbling machines. Lio pokes his head out from around a dryer, his pants wriggled halfway down his hips as he casts him a look that is somehow equal parts exasperated and aroused.

“Wh-, the word _mutual _is _right there_-” he sputters, his strike of hair fanning around him as he shakes his head in disbelief. As he approaches, Galo picks him up in one swift motion, and his legs automatically wrap around his bare torso as he hisses into his neck:

“Oh my god, _Galo, _you’re so fucking _stupid-” _Galo bites at his earlobe, laughing as Lio’s complaints taper off into a whine, his head dropping against his shoulder. He looks to the mess of discarded clothing and spilled dessert in the aisle — they can clean that up later. For now, Galo Thymos doesn't need science or proximity or strawberries to tell him Lio Fotia is in love with him; he's more than happy to make the man mouth it into his skin as many times as he wants. 

Oh man. The rescue squad is _never _going to let him live this down.


	2. Symbiotic: Bonus Content

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some extra lines/interactions/writings that didn't make it into the final cut! Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i liked this stuff too much not to show it off, sue me

“I still don’t get how that word has anything to do with me and Lio!”

“I mean, if you haven’t figured it out by now, then-“

“Then it’s not really our place to tell you,” Remi finishes matter-of-factly.

\---

“It wasn’t a confession!”

“You  _ literally  _ told the man you love him. If my memory serves, that’s at least ninety percent of a confession.”

“What’s the other twenty?”

“Ten.”

“I knew that. Ten, what’s the other ten percent?” There’s a hint of urgency to Galo’s voice that makes Aina’s face curl into a knowing smirk.

“The answer.”

\---

Galo wonders offhandedly if his head is spinning more from the blood rushing to his cheeks or the way his heart rate begins to pick up. He can’t tell yet if either is pleasant.

\---

“So does he top?”

“Lucia!”

“We’re just  _ friends _ , guys, I don’t know what else to say-“

“Friends don’t usually kiss-“

“That was  _ one time _ and it was literally to  _ save his life,  _ Remi _ -“ _

“You’ve saved plenty of people before and you never called any of  _ those  _ your ‘first lit fire’-“

“Are you not telling us because you don’t want to admit he tops?”

_ “ _ For the last time _ ,  _ Lio and I are _ not having sex, Lucia-!” _

“But would you turn him down if he wanted to?”

Galo goes quiet at that, a luminous blush spreading across the tops of his ears. He averts his gaze and brings a hand to his mouth, suddenly committing himself to studying the tablecloth. 

“I-I try not to think about it.”

\---

“I mean, I know I love things  _ about  _ him –– is that the same as loving someone?”

  
“I mean...sort of? It’s part of it. I guess I’d say the real difference is in what you want to do with that person.” Her voice adopts the same teasing lilt as when they were back at the table. “Or  _ to _ them, for that matter.”

\---

“Galo Thymos, I’ll deliver an Inferno Volcano Margherita Megamax to your apartment every Friday for the next _month _if you can think about Lio Fotia’s ass for _one minute_ without blushing.” To his credit, Galo does try - he barely gets past picturing the familiar glint of sunlight on leather before his face nearly combusts. Aina giggles as he goes red. “Wow. I can almost see the steam pouring out your ears.”

\---

“Hey, Galo,” he begins, and as the firefighter makes eye contact with him his confidence withers in his throat, something equal parts soothing and terrifying blooming in its place. He coughs, clearing his throat hard as if to uproot the foreign feeling. “Uh, back at the pizza place...why did Lucia’s straw have an olive on it?”

\---

Galo can’t escape to the street quickly enough, the sudden intensity of Lio’s undivided attention rendering any coherent plan he might have had into a useless stream of  _ shit shit fuck shit fuck—  _

_ “Act natural,” _ his brain frantically advises in Aina’s voice, so he does. He plays along while Lio jokes, lets some nonsense fumble out of his mouth, and manages to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe as he absconds down the stairs like a bat out of hell. Perfectly natural.

By the time the bike is loaded, bags packed snugly into the Lucia-custom side containers, Lio is making his way down as well, the cannoli box tucked reverently under his arm. Galo waits patiently, admiring the way Lio’s outline glows in the late amber sunlight. Of  _ course  _ he wants to say it again –– he wants to whisper it in the blue of night, scream it until he’s hoarse, mumble it while distracted on his way out the door (intentionally! _ ) _ He just can’t seem to fit the words together, a million rambling tangents orbiting the three words that just didn’t seem like enough anymore. Not when they’d already been said. 

He reaches out instinctively as Lio approaches the bike, taking the box as the smaller man mounts the space in front of him in one swift motion, his every move smooth and pointed like black glass. 

“Ready?” Lio asks, glancing over his shoulder. Galo’s sweatshirt still hangs off of him, and Galo uses the familiar softness as an excuse to plop his head onto Lio’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around his lithe middle.

“Ready!” he answers, his voice aggressive with “everything is okay!” energy. Lio cocks an eyebrow.

“Did you remember to secure the container locks this time? I don’t feel like trailing your underwear down the block today.” Galo frowns, drawing a snicker out of the other man.

  
“That was  _ one time-!”  _ He’s cut off as the engine kicks into gear, Lio’s laugh bouncing through the air as they speed off into the street. Galo feels the rare full-body laugh bubble its way out of Lio as the adrenaline kicks in, and he wishes for all the world that just this once, he could imitate a fraction of his composure.

\---

“In that case, if we’re symbiotic, then I suppose saying ‘I love you’ should be easy.”

Lio looks pensive for a moment, and he rises up on his toes to press another kiss to the corner of Galo’s mouth. It’s short and sweet and by the time he pulls back some of the apprehension fizzles out of his eyes as he takes in Galo’s massive grin. A soft smile graces his lips, the same self-satisfied one Galo recognizes as Lio’s acknowledgement of a well-made decision. 

A moment of silence passes between them, and Galo uses the moment to draw Lio to his chest, the smaller man wasting no time in making a quick home in the crook of his neck as his lips brush the bare skin there. The movement sends a weak shiver down Galo’s spine, his grip around his waist tightening. 

“Well?” Galo asks after a few minutes of relishing in their embrace. 

“Well what?” Lio’s voice is soft in a way it only gets when he’s at his most vulnerable; it’s nice to hear it in a different context than the aftermath of a nightmare or a fit of enraged trembling, both of which Lio was somewhat prone to these days. 

“Are you going to say it, then?” If Galo didn’t know any better, he’d say Lio only slides his arms up around his neck to better hide the rosy blush painting his cheeks.

“G-give me a minute…”

“If you’re scared, I can say it first since I kinda already have. I love you.”

Lio makes a muffled noise, burying his face into the crook of Galo’s neck. Neither of which is unpleasant. 

“I love you~,” he singsongs into Lio’s ear. They’re close enough for his lips to brush the shell of skin there, and he watches as the tips turn as pink as a sunset. 

“You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot who loves you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :') 
> 
> thanks for reading! come say hi on twitter!: @adorasword

**Author's Note:**

> me, sobbing and writing this at 1am to my galolio playlist: AND JUST LIKE THAT,,,,THE CHEMICALS REACT ;;A;;


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